


Like Weeds

by airs_of_madness



Category: Batman: The Animated Series, Harley Quinn - Fandom, Poison Ivy - Fandom
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-08
Updated: 2017-10-08
Packaged: 2019-01-10 21:50:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 23
Words: 13,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12308529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/airs_of_madness/pseuds/airs_of_madness
Summary: Poison Ivy is a wreck after Harley Quinn leaves her for the last time. She makes the drastic decision to erase the jester girl from her mind and life.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story was inspired by The Smashing Pumpkins song "Love" and the idea behind Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. 
> 
> This is my first posting on AO3, so I apologize in advance if it's horrible. Please feel free to leave comments/feedback. 
> 
> Also, I obviously do not own any of the characters, names, etc.

“Ya know, Red, you're just as bad as he is! Different person, same fuckin' problem! At least he was fun, though!” Harley shouted at Ivy as she gathered what few belongings she had and stuffed them manically into a duffel bag. Ivy kept her distance while Harley erratically moved about the room, and though she was glad that the girl had finally discovered her independent spirit, the anger fired in her direction stung.  
  
“Don't you dare compare me to that abusive son of a bitch! Have I ever laid a hand on you? Have I ever abandoned you? I've always been here when you needed me, regardless of what happened that made you need me. Despite of what you've said and done. Despite all the fun you had with him. Maybe I just needed to strangle you or push you out of a window to prove it,” Ivy snarled back. She knew that she was nothing like that asshole clown Harley so confoundedly adored. She was not jealous of him. No, this was something more. A primal, instinctual hatred of that which had hurt someone she loved so deeply. “All I have done is love you and take care of you and...” she was abruptly cut off by her blonde partner.  
  
“What do you know about love, Red?” she spun around and looked Ivy resentfully in her green eyes. “I'm literally the only human you have contact with. You tend to me like your dear fuckin' flowers. And put me a nice little glass box, just like your giant glass box” she waved her hands around motioning to their residence, “you keep your plants in. You don't love me, you wanna control me. That's what all of ya want. Harleen Quinzel, Harley Quinn, whatever you wanna call me, I don't belong to no one! Not anymore!” She moved so quickly past Ivy the breeze she created pushed her red hair to the side. Ivy followed her through the halls of the large glass plantation home and into the front foyer, fighting the urge to cry the whole way. She knew this was it. She felt it within her, like a sickly rot spreading decaying despair. Once Harley stepped out of her home she would never see her again. Anything that they ever were or could have been was as dead as a brittle leaf in winter. Why wasn't she making more of an effort to stop her? Could her Harls have been right? She wasn't her Harls anymore. Perhaps deep down she knew it was the right thing to let her go, but that didn't change her worried thoughts.  
  
“Where will you go?” was all she could manage to utter. Ivy knew Harley had no contacts here in Oregon, and she was so far from Gotham.  
  
“Don't worry about it. I can take care of myself.” Harley opened the moss covered glass door and slung the bag over her shoulder as she crossed the threshold to the outside. She turned to look at Ivy, her big blue eyes gleaming with the hint of tears. “Have fun with your flowers, Ivy, because nobody loves you besides them. Nobody ever will, even if you gave them the chance. Maybe I never really loved you, either.” Harley's last words shattered everything inside her. The door closed before her as she slightly stumbled back and swooned gently to a sitting position. There, in the middle of the foyer, Ivy sat cocooning herself within a large Colocasia as she sobbed, dismissing the fact that there was no one around to hide her tears from anymore.


	2. Chapter 2

The magnificent greenhouse, styled after an Antebellum mansion, sat silently in the deep forests of Oregon. Ivy had used her toxins to manipulate some higher-ups into sectioning off an area for her, guaranteeing that she would not be disturbed by the society she detested. It housed a vast number of rooms, each with its own little botanical world. Ivy loved all plants, but she had her favorites and they each had their own space to flourish. The glass ceiling allowed for copious amounts of sunlight and had special sliding panels to allow for rainfall to enter. The walls were covered in mosses and ivy to protect the interior from unwanted exposure. All of her electronics ran on solar power, and while bathrooms and the kitchen area weren't really a necessity for Ivy, she maintained them meticulously for her sole guest. When Harley was present so were the sounds of life, human life anyway. Laughing, bickering, the verbal tennis match of deep conversation. Everything was quiet now. Of course the birds chirped, insects hummed, the wind whispered – nature's symphony kept playing. But something – _someone –_ was missing.

The sun's stabbing rays relinquished dominion to the moon's blanket of blue day after day, night after night. The days turned into weeks, the weeks into months and so on, until it had been almost a year since the ties between Ivy and Harley had been broken. During this period Ivy struggled impetuously with her emotions. She played tug-o-war within herself – breaking down over the loss of the woman she loved one minute and angrily cursing her name for awakening such inane human feelings she thought were gone the next. She lamented over a mental list of all the times Harley had hurt her, crushing herself more and more with each historical resurrection. Then came the intense ire toward her fickle ex for causing her this pain. This would be followed by a spell of self loathing as she recounted Harley's accusations, deciding that she herself was, in fact, to blame for her love's departure. Soon she was inundated with an insatiable longing for the jester girl. She missed loving her, and she missed feeling loved even if, as Harley said, it wasn't real. And so the tormenting cycle continued. But it was the wrath that boiled within her for allowing herself to submit to such feelings that really overpowered Ivy. She hated humans, and now she hated herself for behaving like one.

 


	3. Chapter 3

In the midst of her internal anguish, Ivy continued to tend to her beloved plants. However, she was still trapped in her own thoughts and hadn't bothered to listen to them for some time. Perhaps if she had she would have heard their screams fade into whispers. More and more bile yellows and ashy browns started to pervade her once lush surroundings as her only friends begin to wither and die. At first she suspected an infestation of some kind – a fungus or some sort of insect. At this point she tried to hear them but they were soundless. She inspected every leaf, stem and flower with no definitive answer. Confused and frustrated, she grew new ones in their place (these, too, were not talking) only to see them succumb to the same fate. Then, as the anniversary of her heartbreak approached, she realized it was not an outside force causing the demise of her botanical companions – it was her. All the pain and sadness and anger – her plants had been feeding off of it just as they did the sunlight and rain.

For a moment she actually forgot about Harley, so caught up was she with the concern for her plants. She mined her brain for something resembling a plan of action. A swift kick of melancholy knocked her down again as she considered extreme resolution, given that she was ruining the lives of everyone and everything she cared about. No. This was not the solution. She was stronger than this situation was making her out to be. Poison Ivy may have been called many things but “weak” was never on that list. This was just an off period. Everyone has them now and again. But she was not everyone. It was then that she concluded the only way to make things better for her plants, herself, and yes, even Harley, was to eradicate her former paramour from memory. Because as long as that bewitching blonde coquette was in her head, nothing would ever be right again.

 


	4. Chapter 4

The moonless summer night was warm and wet as Ivy approached the nearly abandoned office building of Flynn Milton and Associates. The attorneys who worked there were notorious for defending major companies in environmental lawsuits, most of which were guilty but managed to evade repercussions of any kind. Ivy loathed them, and at one point considered ridding the world of the overpaid degenerates. However, tonight she would settle for “borrowing” one of their vehicles. Fortunately for her the premises was mostly surrounded by tall shrubbery, allowing her to easily blend in and avoid the lamp posts. Only two vehicles were parked in the lot. The building itself was a statuesque single-story with trendy tiered roofing; those who operated out of the structure were just as pretentious as the architecture.

All of the lights, save for one office, were dimmed and the window of the lit unit was slightly cracked. “Perfect,” Ivy whispered to herself as she scoped out the scene. She stealthily made her way to the building. As she approached she could hear quick, choppy repartee between two men. Crouched out of sight, Ivy began to secrete a pale substance in the palm of her hand. It was a potent herb and flower mixture of plants known to cause drowsiness that quickly dried into a fine powder. She exhaled forcefully, blowing the powder through the opening, and waited. “We're not going to settle. They don't have the funds to keep this going much” a loud thunk punctuated the speaking man's sentence. “Justin? Are you...” another thud. They were out. Ivy safely peeked in scanning for easily accessible car keys, hoping that she would not have to start excavating through pockets. She spotted an oddly shaped black fob on the desk and, guiding her vines between the void, grasped it. As she examined it she noted the little silver “T” gleaming within the black of the device. “Ooh, a Tesla!” she exclaimed, satisfied with her newly obtained green mode of transportation.

After locating the car and, to her relief, finding it fully charged, Ivy paused to make sure everything was set for her trip. She had left the ceiling panels open to ensure her plants got enough water, though she set a special trigger system that would close the panels if the rainfall reached a certain amount. No one except Harley knew where she lived, but just to err on the side of caution she surrounded her property with a tall barrier of thick, thorn-ladened vines. Knowing that the barricade could potentially fail, she also animated a colossal botanical avatar created specifically to attack anyone that made it past the first line of defense. Ivy was traveling light, taking nothing but the clothes she was wearing (not that she was a fan of donning clothing, but she figured it would help her blend in) and a manila envelope which she had placed on the passenger seat. She quickly looked up all the available charging stations for her planned route before she disabled the GPS system completely. She was ready. As she peeled out of the parking lot and made her way onto the open road she noticed a tree shaped air freshener hanging from the rear view mirror. Ivy ripped it off the mirror angrily. “Savages,” she muttered as she tossed the insulting (yet ironic) decoration into the back seat.

 

The journey to Gotham was a long one. Ivy, however, was able to make good time with the help of her pheromones, which got her out of at least a dozen speeding tickets. The smell of the city was disgusting to her – all the pollution and people. Now all she had to do was get Batman's attention.

 


	5. Chapter 5

Ivy was perched on the roof ledge of the Ace Chemical Plant, clutching the envelope in her lap. She gazed over the illuminated city, pondering if she was really ready for what she was about to do. Though she abhorred the concrete jungle below she used to call home, even she had to admit it was rather mesmerizing from above at night. “Ivy.” The voice came from behind her, stern and familiar.

“Batman.” She could sense his presence prior to him acknowledging her. It was the first time she had spoken his name without contempt. Earlier that day she had made some disguised phone calls, knowing how quickly word spreads in that forsaken city. She was certain the false information would reach him. Neither of them moved.

“I heard something was going down here tonight. It reeked of you. I have to admit I was surprised since you had left Gotham some time ago. Seeing as it was just a ploy to get me here, what do you want?”

“A favor.”

“A favor?” his unwavering voice was laced with the slightest note of apprehension.

“Yes. I need you to lock me up in Arkham. Solitary. I have no desire to be amongst those foul people.”

“You should already be there anyway. Why do you want to commit yourself?” The breeze from the altitude whooshed through Batman's cape, the only audible sound besides their voices.

“I hear there's a new rehabilitation process that's being experimented with. It wipes the memory. Is this true?”

“Yes. It's only been tried a handful of times now, but the results seem promising. Why do you have an interest in that?”

“Two words: Harley Quinn,” Ivy sighed. Just saying her name was painful.

“Harley?” he sounded shocked. “So you two _are_ together? I had heard rumors, but people say a lot of things.”

“There was truth to those rumors, and we _were_ together. It's been almost a year and I still can't think straight. My plants are dying, Batman. I have to get her out of my head,” she said with quiet desperation. “So what's your price?”

“No more of your eco-terrorist attacks. Ever.”

“Don't joke with me, Batman, I'm not in the mood.”

“I'm not joking.” She should have known better, Batman was never one to show a sense of humor. “You've taken a lot of lives, Ivy. Maybe trading a human's life for a plant's life is justifiable to you, but it's not to the rest of the world. Stop and I'll help you.”

Ivy remained silent for a bit. It was a high price to pay, but losing her personal plants, and possibly herself, would cost more. “Fine. You win,” she surrendered begrudgingly as she stood to face him. She handed him the envelope. “Here. Do not give this back to me unless it is absolutely necessary. I mean it.”

Batman took the envelope from her hand, and looked it over. “What is it?”

“You'll find out,” she paused for a bit and looked up at him. “Have you heard anything about her by any chance?” Batman had barely opened his mouth to speak when Ivy shook her head, “don't answer that. I don't want to know. Let's go.” Side by side, the Bat and Ivy walked when suddenly, uncharacteristically, he placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. And for a brief moment Ivy was saddened by the thought that she wouldn't remember it.

 


	6. Chapter 6

The lighting in Ivy's isolated, makeshift cell was dim. This was not a reflection of the conditions of Arkham Asylum, but a security measure to ensure that Ivy's powers would be lessened if she were to get upset. This was done for the first week, along with saltwater injections and a slight dropping of the room temperature. Ivy had agreed to these conditions when she finalized the arrangements with Batman. She would basically be receiving specialized treatment, residing in a reinforced office in an administrative wing to avoid contact with the other inmates. Batman had promised he would commission someone he trusted to take her case. Only she, Batman, and whoever the doctor was would know the truth behind her stay. And, if need be, any other staff members to have contact with her were to be told that she had been captured during an attempted eco-terrorist attack, and thus selected for the rehabilitation procedure in exchange for early release. They kept it vague, which Ivy appreciated.

The redhead sat in an oversized chair by the barred window (which also had a special awning to limit the amount of sunlight during the day). It was mid-evening and the sun had already set. Ivy was feeling grateful for the hushed environment when three swift knocks made her jump. The locks clicked and the door opened to reveal a middle aged black woman in a white coat. “Hi, Pamela. I'm Dr. Joan Leland,” the woman introduced herself and made her way closer to Ivy, extending her hand to greet her.

“I remember seeing you around.” Ivy did in fact remember her. Not her name or her face, but her modest bob haircut. “You never treated me, though.”

“Yes, I remember you, too,” the doctor said opening the file. “I understand you're here by request, correct?” Ivy nodded in response, too listless to provide a verbal answer. “Now, due to the private nature of your case, no new information has been added to your file. All I have here are your general records. Batman and I have worked on some other cases together and, since I'm sitting here, I would think I hold some credence with him. I also have a background here that may allow me to provide more insight regarding your particular situation.”

“Oh?”

“I both worked with and treated Harleen at one point, or attempted to. Due to doctor patient privilege I can't get into specifics, but because of this I am the most qualified to treat you. So, moving on, Batman did brief me on the situation, but I'd like to hear it from you, if you don't mind.” Dr. Leland leaned back slightly in her seat. She looked interested in listening to her new patient while still maintaining an air of professionalism. Ivy approved of her, and even felt somewhat comfortable with her. Dare she think it - Batman had done well.

Ivy elaborated on her and Harley's friendship-turned on again/ off again-romantic relationship. She divulged the details of the fight and the aftermath that would ultimately bring her to Arkham. “And now I'm here, waiting for you to expunge her from my mind,” Ivy concluded.

“This has obviously been very painful for you. Now, I've just met you and I'm not going to pretend I know everything about you, but from what I've read in your file and observed, I can understand why you would be attracted to Harleen's personality. And I can understand how those forces can also cause you two to clash. Despite the balance you provided for each other, there's an under current of a power struggle, though it's manifested differently for each of you. Though it seems that given how far out of your way you've gone to go through with this somewhat extreme resolve, this bond you had with Harleen was quite strong. Are you absolutely sure that you want to do this?”

“Well, that's the problem – this _bond_ of ours was stronger on one side than the other. She's cut her ties while they're wrapped around my throat on my end. I'm not sure I _want_ to do this, to be completely honest, but I'm positive that I need to. I can't stand this...humanity.”

“I hate to break it to you, Ms. Isley, but whether you like it or not you are still part human,” said the doctor, noticing Ivy grimace with her comment. “But we'll do what we can,” she offered a minute but warm smile as she stood to leave for the night. “I'll be in tomorrow morning to go over the procedure with you. Good night, Pamela.” Ivy bade her farewell with something resembling a smile. It had been so long, she was surprised she still remembered how.

 


	7. Chapter 7

Ivy was up before sunrise. She gazed over the city as its veil was slowly lifted, block by block. Eventually everything was bathing in a xanthic pool...except for her, of course. She sighed dispiritedly. Dr. Leland knocked, “Pamela? It's Dr. Leland,” she announced as she entered the room. “Good morning, Pamela,” she greeted her. Ivy, who had not yet turned to acknowledge the doctor, now faced her as she pulled a chair closer. “Before I get into explaining today's procedure, I want you to know that I will be the only one in the room with you so you can feel free to say whatever you please regarding Harleen. I will escort you from here to a holding area where you will wait while I prep the equipment. A guard will retrieve you from holding and take you to the exam room. I think it will be more discreet and safer this way.”

“Okay. And what exactly will you be doing to me?”

“Today is more of a preliminary procedure. I will make a scan of your brain as you tell me everything you possibly can about Harleen. What she likes, memories of you and her, objects, sounds, smells, anything you relate to her. The scan will determine where the memories are stored and display them as a red spot on my screen. The darker the color the deeper the memory, so I'll know how many layers to affect.”

“Layers?” Ivy asked, not sure what to make of this.

“Yes. We've learned that memories are stored in layers. Time adds more layers to that specific memory, as you may recall it more often or it heavily affected you at the time it was created. A stronger memory has more layers to it, whereas a stranger you passed would barely even register, if at all. How long have you known Harleen?” Harleen. That name sounded so formal, so unlike Harley. “Don't worry, anything I jot down is strictly for my use. I will destroy it once we are done,” Dr. Leland confirmed, her pen pressed to a small notepad in her lap.

“Ten years,” Ivy stated as the doctor scribbled the information on her pad.

“Ten years is a long time. Given how long you've known her, and assuming there are quite a few memories that have been developed, the actual erase should take most of the day tomorrow.” Ivy's expression displayed her amazement at how quickly Harley would be gone. “I know. You're very lucky, Pamela. This procedure used to take six months to a year when we first started experimenting with it, but we've been able to refine it on multiple levels.”

“If it's so great why haven't you used it on all the patients here?”

“Well, it really only works if the person _wants_ to change. They have to be honest with their responses during the scan or else we can't correctly place the memory. We did force it on a few patients initially, but...well, let's just say it didn't work out so well and leave it at that. As bad as that sounds, we really do just want to help, but not everyone wants help.”

“And what happens if it goes too far, if it erases too much?”

“There is a possibility of that happening, but the procedure is extremely precise and I honestly don't see that being an issue,” Dr. Leland smiled. “So, are you ready, Pamela?”

Ivy stared out the window, picturing Harley laughing and bouncing around with energy. She closed her eyes and breathed in deeply, “I suppose.”

 


	8. Chapter 8

Ivy paced the interior of the small holding cell. Her fists were clenched, nervous with anticipation. Question after question bloomed in brain – What if it doesn't remove everything? How will I get back to Oregon? What if Batman told her to erase the knowledge of who I am and what I can do? Is this really the best way? Maybe I don't want to forget her. What if...the deep sound of footsteps from down the hall silenced her thoughts. Someone with a heavy step was coming her way – the guard.

A tall, muscular man with a dimwitted face walked up to the holding cell. “The doctor is ready for you,” he mumbled. “Put your hands through the slot.” Ivy did as she was told and he cuffed her. “Stand back,” he ordered as he unlocked the cell door. Once out of her enclosure, he grabbed her by the upper arm (something she normally would not have tolerated) and proceeded to lead her to the exam room. As they approached he leaned down and whispered in her ear, “the clown said to tell you he can smell her on you.” Ivy's green eyes illuminated with rage. She didn't bother asking how the Joker knew she was there. Using all the energy she had, she released a thick vine which bound the guard and flung him across the corridor, his body cracking the cement wall on impact. She retracted the vine as Dr. Leland rushed into the hallway. “What the hell is going on?” she cried.

“Why don't you ask him? And while you're at it fire this asshole for engaging inappropriately with the inmates!” Ivy spat at him. The saliva landed an inch from his crotch where it sizzled as it burned through the linoleum.

“What is she talking about?” the doctor questioned as the guard, still dazed, tried to lift himself up.

“I'm sorry, Dr. Leland. The Joker, he paid me to pass on a message to the plant girl. Please, I...” Dr. Leland held up a hand to silence him.

“Pamela, into the room now please. Close the door,” she said as she removed a walkie talkie from her lab coat pocket. “This is Dr. Leland, I need two armed guards on the third floor of the west wing immediately.”

“Copy that, doctor,” said a scratchy voice from the device. The guard, still breathing heavily, was slumped and propped against the wall. The doctor yanked the clip-on badge from his shirt pocket, and within minutes the backup she had requested came rushing to her aid. “Dr. Leland, what can we assist you with?” a stern faced man with an immaculately starched uniform asked.

“Officer Ripley, can you please escort Mr.” she glanced at the ID card, “Mr. Nolan here to human resources for immediate dismissal. I've just been informed that he has been taking bribes from the inmates. Let Alice know that I'll drop off his badge later today.”

“Yes, Dr. Leland.” Officer Ripley and his partner cuffed the guard and walked him off.

Dr. Leland entered the room to find Ivy sitting on the bed of what resembled an MRI machine, tears brimming in her eyes. “Pamela, I'm terribly sorry. I wish I could say that this is a rare occurrence, but you know as well as anyone that it's not. What did he say to you?” The doctor began to stick electrodes on Ivy's green skin.

“That the Joker wanted him to let me know he can smell her on me. How did he even know I was here?”

“Well, the guard was only told to go to the holding cell and transport a patient. He wasn't provided any information on who it would be or why. My guess is he somehow saw or heard about the adjustments being made to the office to make your cell, and put two and two together. Again, my apologies. You'll be out of here soon enough and you won't have to worry about him anymore.”

“Lucky me,” Ivy said, positioning herself horizontally on the bed.

“Lucky you, indeed, Ms. Isley. Now, you're going to hear a low buzzing. Try not to move.” The doctor flipped a switch to turn the machine on. The screen at the opposite end of the room showed a blue toned image of Ivy's brain. “I need you to tell me everything you can possibly think of that you relate to Harleen. I may ask questions in between to clarify for a better reading. I cannot stress enough how important it is for you to provide every bit of information possible, even if you think it's not important or doesn't directly relate to her. This must be done to ensure the successful results you want. Do you understand?” The doctor now sat at the other end of the room in front of the monitor, zooming in on certain areas, the clicking of the keyboard and mouse echoing off the white walls.

“Understood,” Ivy confirmed as she stared up at the whirring mechanism. She rambled on for hours about Harley. She recounted how they met, what she thought of her, their time with Selina, favorite this, favorite that, dislikes, the Joker (of course), how she made her feel when this happened or when that happened, the clothes she wore, the foods she ate, words she used, the way her skin felt, how her hair smelled, her unappealing qualities, the reasons she loved her– all that was Harley through the eyes of a pending stranger.

 


	9. Chapter 9

Ivy was still exhausted from the day before as the doctor led her to the room where the procedure would take place. She was strapped into a large chair, a “formality” Dr. Leland said, with a heavy helmet type apparatus covering her head. “Once we get going you're going to feel a tingling on your scalp, it shouldn't hurt, though,” said Dr. Leland as she inserted an IV into her patient's arm.

Ivy flinched. “What's that for?”

“I have to give you a sedative. We find that the patient can become very disturbed and unstable if the procedure is done while they're awake. It's too overwhelming for the brain,” the doctor answered as she made the final adjustments.

“How exactly does this work?”

“The best way I can describe it is to think of it like an Etch-a-Sketch. You know how when you shake one the image disappears? The strong magnets and frequencies we use affect the targeted areas of the brain, shaking them up so to speak, and dissolve the specified memories. Of course it's more complicated than that, but that's the gist of it.”

“Got it,” Ivy squirmed a bit in her restraints.

“Once it's complete you'll be woken up. I'll show you visuals, do word associations, and use other aides to make sure the process is successful,” the doctor explained, “but you won't understand why I'm doing it at that point. Don't worry, though. All the bases are covered and you should transition smoothly. We're just about ready to go. Do you have any questions before we start?”

“No.”

“Okay, then. Let's get this show on the road,” Dr. Leland began to make her way to the control panel when Ivy, with what little mobility she had, grabbed her lab coat. The doctor paused, “Ms. Isley?”

“Just...thank you.”

“Pamela, I never thought I'd say this to a criminal with your reputation, but it truly has been a pleasure. You're welcome, and good luck,” she smiled. Ivy released her and she proceeded to her station.

There were a few clicks and a faint electric hum flooded Ivy's ears; the tingling Dr. Leland spoke of was instant. Tears began to stream down her face leaving shimmering, thin ribbons in their wake. “Goodbye, Harley,” she whispered to herself, her eyes slowing closing.

 


	10. Chapter 10

“Pamela? Pamela, can you open your eyes for me?” It was a woman's voice that Ivy had not heard before. It was distant and distorted at first, but clearer as the question was repeated. She thought maybe she was underwater and was gradually floating to the surface. She forced her lids apart. The room was institutional – white walls, bright lights, and an array of equipment. She felt weak and disoriented. “Pamela?” a woman in a lab coat asked. As Ivy's eyes processed her surroundings, she now focused on the lady speaking to her. The haircut looked vaguely familiar but she had no idea who this was.

“Where am I?” she asked, drowsily.

“You're in Arkham Asylum and I'm Dr. Leland,” the woman said, shining a light into Ivy's eyes.

“Arkham? What am I doing back in Gotham? It's been years since I've been here.” Bewildered, she attempted to stand realizing that she was restrained, but was too weak to do anything about it.

The doctor rolled a stool in front of Ivy with a large box resting on top. “Apparently, you came back to do some sort of attack on the Ace Chemical Plant. I suppose news of something they had done reached you wherever you were? I wouldn't know your intentions.” She placed the box on the ground and herself on the stool. “But it seems like your attack backfired. Something exploded and the force of the blast threw you. You hit your head and it caused some mild brain damage.”

“An attack? I don't remember any of that. What am I hooked up to?” Ivy now began to struggle with the cuffs around her wrists and ankles to no avail.

“It's to monitor your brain activity. We're not seeing any physical damage or swelling, but your memory appears to be affected. I'm going to do a test on you. The first part is word association.”

“Oh, you've got to be fucking kidding me.”

“I assure you, it's all very routine. I'll say a word and you tell me the first thing that comes into your head,” stated Dr. Leland as she scanned over something scribbled on a notepad.

“I know how word association works,” Ivy remarked, annoyed.

“Good. First word: Harley,” the doctor looked intensely at her patient.  
“Um, motorcycle, I guess?” Ivy was baffled by the selection, and more so by the satisfied look of the doctor as she made a checkmark on the notepad.

“Red.”

“Rose.”

“Clown.”

“Circus.”

“Girlfriend.”

“A stupid human relationship label.” With every answer Ivy provided, the doctor made a check. The words seemed incredibly odd. Especially the last one, which was “pudding”.

“Very good, Pamela. Now, I'm going to show you some pictures and expose you to some smells and sounds. Tell me what they make you think of,” the doctor rustled through the box.

“This all seems pointless. Can you just take me to my cell? I'm exhausted,” Ivy asked, scanning the room with a disinterested look.

“I'm sorry, we have to finish these tests before I can take you back.” The doctor held up a photo of Harley in full costume. “Do you know who this is?”

“Should I?”

“Not necessarily,” the doctor replied casually as she grabbed another photo. “How about this person?” It was Harley in her normal street clothes, no make-up.

“Is this some sort of joke? Who is that?”

“If you don't recognize her it doesn't matter. What does this smell like to you?” The doctor held an open bottle of shampoo under Ivy's nose. It was the same kind Harley used.

“Animal testing,” she shot back, though really it smelled rather lovely – coconut and flowers.

The doctor put the bottle back in the box and pulled out a tape recorder. “Listen to this, tell me what you think of,” she pressed play. It was a young woman with a Brooklyn accent.

“New York. Are we done here?” Ivy shifted in her seat. The doctor continued to present her with a barrage of images and items, all the while making notes. There seemed to be no trace of Harley in Ivy's answers.

“We're almost finished. I just have to do one more thing and you can go.” The doctor rolled on the stool to the control panel. She hit a few keys and there was a loud buzz.

 

 


	11. Chapter 11

The room was quiet as a tomb. Only Ivy's motionless body remained. Her eyes fluttered, gradually adjusting to the light. The headpiece she recently donned was retracted and no longer near her, but her wrists and ankles were still restrained. She felt stronger now. She yielded her vines with ease and unshackled herself. As she ripped the IV from her vein she reached for the empty bag it was attached to for any clues as to what they were pumping her full of. “NPK? Like plant food?” Ivy murmured to herself, “that can't be right.” She tossed the bag aside and tiptoed to the door to listen for any indication of life. Nothing. She felt that something was off. The staff wouldn't just leave her alone...or maybe they would. The employees there were often incompetent. Slowly she opened the door and peeked into the deserted hallway. Off to her left she heard a distant shuffling of papers, a muffled voice. She exited the room and headed to her right. It was a long hallway with office doors on either side. Most were locked, except for one way down at the end. The door was slightly ajar with the deadbolt exposed. Someone had meant to lock it but didn't close it all the way before turning the key. Ivy thought it was her lucky day.

She slipped into the office, locking the door properly behind her. Her first order of business was finding keys of any sort, but hopefully to a vehicle to get her back to Oregon. Hurriedly, she began searching through the drawers of a desk, discarding paper clips and sticky notes of various sizes and colors as she tore through each chamber. Finally, amidst a mess of pens and cough drops, she discovered her Holy Grail – a Tesla fob. This, of course, meant she was going to have to locate some charging stations for her drive, as she couldn't leave the GPS on for fear of being tracked down. She planted herself in front of the computer stationed on the desk. As it started up she was greeted by a password request. “Shit.” Ivy frantically explored the room with her emerald eyes. Nothing stood out. She made her way to the closet, but was immediately disappointed by its contents - just a spare lab coat, some women's clothing, a pair of shoes, nothing useful. She foraged through the desk again scanning over paperwork for an ID number, or any relevant looking number. Then, right in front of her the whole time, she noticed a photograph taped to the bottom of the computer monitor. A rather generic image of a cake stained child surrounded by party decorations with a large banner hanging abaft that read “Happy 10th Birthday Eva”. It appeared cheaply printed, but there was a time stamp in the corner. Ivy used this newly acquired information to form a password: Eva10032007. The computer welcomed her with a jingle. “Thank you, Eva,” she glanced at the photo again, “ugh, children are disgusting.” Within a few minutes she had a print out of her route with charging stations mapped. As Ivy worked on her escape she continually stopped to listen for anyone that might foil her plans, but it was late and the minimal noise seemed to be contained at the opposite end of the hall. She attired herself in what was hanging in the closet, checking one last time for anything that might be of use or anyone that might pose a threat. The coast was clear, and because she was in an administrative area away from the inmates the security was virtually non-existent. Ivy climbed out the window using her vines to safely deliver her to the ground where she walked briskly but confidently, using the lab coat to cloak any sign of misconduct as she fled to the parking lot. She swiftly located her getaway car and began driving west, leaving the cold, grim building and its vile host city in her wake. She was thrilled to be heading in the opposite direction, yet this freedom felt too easily attained, almost as if it had been planned for her. She elected to pardon the lack of difficulty, chalking it up to fate. The universe wanted her back in Oregon, and who was she to deny the cosmos?

 


	12. Chapter 12

A few days after her liberation, Ivy was back on familiar turf. Night had already fallen upon the Beaver State, the heavy cloud cover making her surroundings especially dark. She abandoned the stolen vehicle on the side of a road about five miles away from her property. As she journeyed amongst the stationary army of firs and hemlocks, she struggled to remember anything relating to the events in Gotham that landed her in Arkham. The last memory she could place was setting up security around her greenhouse; it was vague and spotty, but she assumed it was in preparation for the mysterious trip to her hometown.

She approached the walled perimeter of her estate, only to find a small section had been cut and removed. Putting her hands on the rigid tendrils, she listened to what they had to say. “The blonde girl is back?” she whispered to herself, confused by their chatter. She silently commanded the vines to return to the earth, which they did with a low rumble. The thicket having completely retreated, Ivy expected to find the intruder now a casualty of her horticultural attack dog. She searched the area and did find a body of sorts - large heaps of dead leaves and branches. Standing over the remains of her guard, she beheld a sight to inspire fury - the lights in the greenhouse were on.

Ivy stormed into the house, eyes ablaze, ready to confront the trespasser. Just as the plants had said, there she was - a woman with blonde pigtails hunched over, smelling a bouquet of purple flowers. The stranger spun around and immediately began running at Ivy. “Red! You’re back!” she exclaimed with a smile. “I’ve been waiting for days. Where have you…” Her question was interrupted as Ivy’s massive vines took hold, slamming her against the wall where she was met with a loud crack as the glass fissured beneath its cloak of leaves. Harley, suspended a foot off the ground, gasped. “Is this about Frakenvine out there?” she quipped, her head hanging limp.

“Who the hell are you? Why are you in my greenhouse? How did you get in here?” Ivy demanded.

“Red, it’s me, Harls. Harley. Harley Quinn. I know the security code, remember?”

The vines constraining the prisoner lowered and Ivy propped up Harley’s slumped head with the back of her hand. She examined the woman’s face. Her delicate features, large cerulean eyes and alabaster skin boasted a natural beauty Ivy could not ignore. She reminded her of an Alba Coerulea Oculata. “Harley, you say? I’ve seen you before.”

“Of course ya have. We lived together. We love each other,” she stated, now gazing at Ivy directly, tears welling into pools preparing to overflow.

“Oh, I doubt that very much,” Ivy chuckled. “No, the doctor at Arkham showed me a picture of you. She asked if I knew who you were. I didn’t think anything of it then.”

“Arkham?!” Harley’s eyes widened with shock. “What were you doing in Arkham? Is that why ya can’t remember anything? What’ve they done to ya, Red?”

“They didn’t do anything to me. I escaped shortly after arriving. I was taken there after my plans to...do something...at Ace Chemical went wrong. So they told me, anyway. Apparently, I suffered a head injury,” Ivy explained casually as she continued to look over Harley. Her natural distrust of others had already set her mind off on a tangent of paranoid theories. She now suspected Harley of having something to do with her injury and subsequent imprisonment. “But of course, you already know this. You heard I escaped and came here to finish the job, right? Who do you work for? Some seedy bastard with a stake in the chemical plant, right? Who sent you? I want a name!”

“Nobody sent me!” Harley retorted, sobbing as she realized that this was not the same Ivy she’d left behind. “I didn’t even know you were in Gotham. I haven’t seen you in a year! I was with…”, she looked away sheepishly in her silence.

“Who were you with?” Ivy grabbed Harley’s face and jerked it towards her own. Harley kept her eyes averted and her mouth shut prompting Ivy’s nails to dig into her cheeks as she squeezed. Harley squirmed in her grasp. “Answer me,” Ivy ordered in a breathy, choleric voice.

“I was with Mistah J,” she whimpered, “until he got locked up again a few months ago. After that I traveled for a bit on my own.”

Ivy forcefully released her face with a hard snap of the wrist. “Who is _Mistah J_? Does he work for Ace?”

“What? No. Ya know Mistah J.” Ivy just stared at her blankly. “The Joker? The Clown Prince of Crime?” Ivy shook her head in response, unamused. “Well, trust me, he wouldn’t give a shit if you tried to blow up Ace...or whatever ya tried to do.”

“Trust you? I don’t even know you!” Ivy turned to leave. “And I hate clowns,” she added as she exited the room. She made her way to her office where a laptop sat closed atop a desk. She flipped the screen up. logged in, and began an internet search for this Joker fellow. The results, mostly news stories and some pictures of him and Harley, returned nothing to suggest he was invested with company. The last article she pulled up detailed his arrest about three months back. There was no evidence showing he’d been released (or escaped) since. Ivy pondered why this Harley woman was there if she had no ill will. Perhaps she was telling the truth? Afterall, she did know where to find her and nobody from Gotham knew Ivy’s location. No matter, she had work to do and did not have time for trivial walks down memory lane. Her business with Harley was finished and now she needed to be disposed of.

Ivy reentered the large living room area. Harley was still wrapped in a tangle of vines, violet blotches forming on her porcelain skin where Ivy had clutched her so violently. “So it seems that you were being at least somewhat forthright with me. For that I’ll send you on your way with a little something for the road.” Ivy approached Harley with a beguiling smile and kissed her passionately on the lips, Harley giving off a muffled moan as their mouths danced together; it lasted longer than Ivy would normally have liked it to but for some reason she couldn’t get herself to move away.

“Oh, Red,” Harley gasped as soon as Ivy pulled back, “I’ve missed ya.”

“Spare me the sobriquets and sentiments, you insufferable tart. You might want to choose your last words more wisely.”

“Red!” Harley was shocked by her words. “Why’re you so mean now? I didn’t think getting conked on the head would beat the nice outta ya!”

“Nice? I was never nice. And why aren’t you dead yet?”

“Tryna kill me? Jeez! I told ya we lived together. I’ve known ya for a decade. You gave me an injection to make me immune to your poisons and toxins when we first met.” Ivy had no choice but to believe her on this seeing as she was still breathing. Frustrated and confused, she begrudgingly freed Harley from her organic shackles.

“I have business to tend to and I don’t have time for this. Just go. You know where the door is. Never come back here,” Ivy said walking away as Harley massaged her aching back.

“I could stay. Help ya with your work, maybe?”

“I prefer to work alone,” Ivy asserted as she slowly climbed the stairs.

“Then maybe I could just keep ya company?” the blonde persisted.

By this point Ivy was too tired to argue. “Do whatever you want,” she declared from the balcony overlooking the open space before she retired to her room.

 


	13. Chapter 13

Ivy lied on her bed trying to dismiss the strange events that had just transpired, and the odd woman in the other room. Repose was absent, and did not hint at its arrival. Her initial anger had now dissolved into an extrinsic feeling that something bigger than herself was in charge. This frightened her, as control was not something she cared to relinquish. _Maybe the brain damage was worse than they thought_ , she speculated. Could they have been close at some point? And if they had been in some sort of relationship, why did Harley leave? Moreover, why did she come back? She obviously wasn’t lying about certain things; the evidence was there. Amidst the desire to kill her, or otherwise get rid of her, and a persistent distrust, Ivy wrestled with an unexpected and unwanted budding fondness for her uninvited guest. _It’s been a long few days, you’re not thinking clearly_ , she reassured herself, shutting her eyes.

She had not been dozing for more than ten minutes when she was disturbed by shuffling and muttering. “Goddamnit,” she said aloud, rising from her resting spot to see what the commotion was. The sounds were coming from down the corridor. Ivy was surprised to see that it was a bathroom, a space she had no use for. Strange how she couldn’t recall having a bathroom in her own home. Harley was opening and closing cabinets and drawers, talking to herself all the while. “What are you doing?” Ivy questioned from the doorway.

“Sorry, Red. Don’t ya have a first aid kit or some painkillers or somethin’? I’m not feelin’ so hot.”

“Come here.” Harley complied. Ivy examined the wounds on her face first. Then, putting her hands gently on Harley’s waist, swiveled her body and lifted her shirt to investigate the damage on her back. Harley’s pale skin was ornamented with deep purple nebulae surrounding a bleeding gash near her spine. “I’ll be right back,” Ivy said before darting off. She sprinted throughout the massive greenhouse gathering leaves, jars, and a pestle and mortar. “I have some things that should…help.” Ivy, now at the entrance to the bathroom, halted in both step and speech. Harley stood before her topless, her red and black bikini underwear the only garment on her body.

“What? It’s nothin’ ya haven’t seen before,” she joked.

“Be that as it may, I don’t remember, so really it’s like I haven’t,” Ivy composed herself and began preparing her items on the vanity. She grabbed a washcloth and soaked it in warm water. Vines rapidly raced down the walls to create seats for both women. “Sit,” she commanded, “back towards me.” Harley did as she was told and Ivy began to wash her back with the cloth.

“Earlier you said you were never nice. That’s not true. You were nice to me, Red. Mostly, anyway.”

“Okay. I suppose I’m in no position to negate that,” Ivy conceded as she reached for another towel to dry Harley. “I’m going to make a salve of plantain. It will help heal the bruises,” she stated in an attempt to change the subject. She took a stand before the vanity where she muddled the wide, bright green leaves in the stone bowl before adding coconut oil. Ivy placed her palms on the counter as she waited for the mixture to solidify, not realizing that she was staring at Harley in the mirror. Battered and bruised she sat in such a position that resembled a muse posing for some great work of art. Ivy, caught off guard by the brilliance of her guest, was slowly filling with remorse, though she wouldn’t dare utter an apology.

“What’s wrong? Why’re ya lookin' at me like that?” Harley asked, a coy grin adorning her face. Ivy, who was unaware that she, too, was being watched, jumped at the sound of her voice. She fumbled with the mortar bowl before taking her place once more behind Harley. “So?” Harley pressed as Ivy began applying the creamy salve.

“So, I was admiring your form. From a strictly artistic standpoint, mind you. You could be a Collier or a Bouguereau.” Ivy cleaned her hands and retrieved another set of leaves. “This is called Stachys byzantina. The leaves have amazing antibacterial and healing properties, and can be used as bandages. I’m going to apply some aloe first to help them stick, so it may be a bit cold,” again, she attempted to persuade the conversation in a different direction.

“Oooh,” Harley shivered, “these plants of yours are pretty amazing, Red. And what did ya just call me?”

_So much for that_ , Ivy thought. “They were painters. They created some beautiful works. Turn around and face me.” Harley obeyed. Ivy couldn’t tell if the pigment on her face was from blushing or bruising. She reached for the salve again, applying little dabs on the areas where her fingers had done damage.

“So ya think I’m beautiful?”

“That’s not what I said.”

“Ya kinda did, Red. You _are_ still in love with me!” Harley exclaimed, poking at Ivy teasingly.

“No, I’m really not,” she opposed as Harley continued to playfully prod at her, “stop that! Quit it! You must not be in too much pain if you’re able to do that.” Harley giggled at her comment. “You need to rest. And please put some clothes on. I’ll make you some willow bark tea. It’s nature’s aspirin. I assume you have a room here?” Ivy decided that she should probably go through her greenhouse at some point to see what else she had forgotten.

“I usually slept with you in your room.”

“My room? Well, that’s fine I suppose. You can take my room for now. I’ll retire elsewhere.”

“You’re not gonna stay with me?” the mostly naked Harley sadly asked, already making her way down the hall.

“No. I’ll be in shortly to bring you the tea. Be careful dressing and lying down.” Ivy paced briskly down the stairs holding a jar filled with planks of willow bark. She probably wouldn’t have known about the kitchen either had she not glimpsed it earlier. Fortunately a small pan and a few cups were already out near the sink; she wasn’t in the mood to be searching for kitchenware at this time of night. Watching the water boil, she hoped that Harley would accept the medical assistance and room and board in lieu of an apology.

Once back upstairs, she noticed Harley was already asleep, nestled in the covers of her bed. As she placed the cup on the nightstand a faint voice whispered, “it’s okay, Red, I love ya, too.”

“I don’t love you,” she harshly whispered back before leaving the room.

But as she was closing the door, Harley, almost inaudible, replied, “yeah, ya do.”

 


	14. Chapter 14

The next few weeks were not what Ivy was anticipating upon her return to Oregon. They were spent regretfully (on multiple levels) caring for a woman she apparently had known - even loved, according to the stranger - but of whom she had no recollection. Yet, she could not deny her predilection for Harley (something she rarely felt about anyone) and the compassion she extracted from her, nor her genuine interest in the provocative habitué. As Harley recovered, the two discussed various points of interest from the past, with most conversations being initiated by Ivy’s counterpart. She detailed how they met and elaborated on the Joker. Ivy was appalled and disgusted by his treatment of Harley, though she often - perhaps unknowingly, still enslaved by the psychotic criminal - defended him after recounting incidents that had caused her either emotional or physical injury, or both. Harley acknowledged what the Joker subjected her to was wrong but, according to her, he had his reasons so he wasn’t necessarily at fault. She recounted many an abhorrent occurrence always wed with justification, like how she had messed up in some way so he chained her up in a dungeon or when he gave her a bouquet of dynamite disguised as roses it was because he had commitment issues. She claimed to have grown tired of being treated so badly, yet she could not grasp the fact that she was not to blame. This troubled Ivy, though she ruled it was none of her business...not anymore, anyway.

After days upon days of Harley reeducating Ivy, it seemed that her wounds had finally healed. Harley, however, was left with a souvenir - a barely visible scar down the middle of her back. All in all, her appearance was nearly flawless, and her spirit seemed to be untouched. Ivy decided that it was time for her to get back to work, and perhaps the ball of energy that was Harley Quinn could assist. If Ivy had learned anything from the stories relayed to her it was that Harley, aside from wanting to be loved, wanted to be useful. And that she could give her.

Ivy knocked on the half open door of Harley’s room. Shortly after their reunion Ivy turned one of the spare rooms into an actual bedroom for her new housemate. “Ya don’t have to knock, Red,” Harley called from within. She was stretched out on her stomach in the middle of the bed, knees bent and ankles crossed, as she watched a show on her flat screen.

“Right,” Ivy replied making her away over to the unmade bed before taking a seat on the edge. “So, Harley, I…”

“Why don’t you call me “Harls” anymore? I liked that,” the blonde interrupted as she lifted the remote to turn the tv off.

“I don’t think we’re there yet. Anyway…”

“Yet? So maybe something to look forward to, eh?” she smiled and winked at Ivy.

“Yeah, sure, why not. Anyway, as I was about to say, I have some work to do and I wanted to see if you were interested in assisting me,” Ivy stated, clearly exasperated by the constant interruptions.

“I thought you’d never ask!” Harley exclaimed, eagerly jumping up off the bed to stand at attention in front of Ivy. “So, what’s the plan, raisin bran?”

“Recently a major logging company based here in Oregon got itself slapped with a massive lawsuit. They shut down much of their operations, but they still have a few sites operating throughout the state. The activity is limited but they’re still doing damage. I want to stop them. I’ve checked out the sites before. At night they’re usually watched by a few security guards. It’s the equipment I need to get to, and I need you to take care of the guards. Can you help me with that?” In reality Ivy could handle the entire operation on her own, but she wanted to give Harley something to do. Harley, far from the fool many made her out to be, knew this as well but was grateful that Ivy, who not even a month ago was trying to kill her, was making an effort to include her.

“Sounds like fun! When do we start?” Harley was already getting her costume ready, impressing Ivy with her eagerness.

“Tonight. We have to hit four locations before 5 AM, so rest up. Also, I need you to do something.”

“Whatever it is, I’m on it!”

“I have to finish mapping out the route, so I need you to steal a car, a fast one, and have it here by sundown.”

Harley responded with a delighted squeal. “Ya got it, Red!”

 

 


	15. Chapter 15

As promised, Harley had a black BMW parked outside just as the pinks and oranges in the sky amalgamated into the darker purples and blues of nightfall. Ivy locked up and made her way to the car. “Nice work,” she said as Harley tossed her the keys.

“ Right before I knocked out the salesman he said it gets almost 40 miles per gallon!”

“Fantastic. Let’s get going.”

The pair sped from one work site to the next. At each location, Harley would gleefully show off her gymnastic skills, giving the guards a Cirque du Soleil style show as she rendered them unconscious and tied them up. Ivy, in the meantime, commanded her plants to dismantle all the machinery. They were in and out within half an hour at each location. They ditched the car at the last spot, which was an hour away from Ivy’s homestead, and walked back just before dawn greeted the western portion of the country. Ivy, pleased with the night’s work, praised Harley on her skills and even thanked her for agreeing to help.

At the greenhouse, Ivy, yawning, entered the key code and tiredly opened the door. “I’m off to bed,” she informed her accomplice, who ecstatically embraced the redhead and planted a kiss on her cheek.

“Thanks a ton, Red,” she beamed before scurrying off to her room.

 


	16. Chapter 16

Within a couple of days, word of the attacks was all over the news. The corporation had suffered a major blow and Ivy could not have been happier. She hoped it would lead to their permanent downfall, causing them to go bankrupt and end their practices, but only time would tell if her plan was a success. For now, she had some downtime and decided to enjoy it.

Ivy stood at the bannister overlooking the living room where Harley was practicing cartwheels and flips. “Hey, Harley!” she called down, only to be ignored. “Harley!” Another failed attempt. She made her way down the steps and fixed herself a few yards away from the cartwheeling Harley. “Harley!” she called again, but the deafened blonde heard nothing as she continued on her collision course. “Hey, whoa! Watch out!” She flailed her arms to alert her, startling Harley and causing her to tumble over.

Propped on her side, Harley removed an earbud. “I almost ran you over, Red!”

“I’ve been trying to get your attention for the last five minutes. Now, I see why you couldn’t hear me.” Ivy extended a hand to help her up.

“Sorry, Red. What’s up?”

“Would you like to go for a walk?” Ivy smiled.


	17. Chapter 17

Ivy stuffed some items into a backpack and they began their trek. “So, where’re we goin’? And why do you have a backpack?” Harley questioned, falling behind slightly in an attempt to unzip it.

Ivy spun around and gently slapped her hand. “You’ll see. Be patient. Enjoy the walk.”

“Awww,” a disappointed Harley lamented.

“By the way, are you wearing underwear?”

“That’s a weird question. Are you gonna pants me?” she laughed.

“No, I’m not. Will you just answer the question? It could affect this little trip. I should’ve asked earlier.”

“Yeah, of course I am,” Harley replied, curious as to what Ivy had up her sleeve. “It is a beautiful day, though.” She danced and skipped, following Ivy through the forest to their mystery destination for another 20 minutes.

Soon they reached the edge of a clearing and were confronted by a glade with a breathtaking waterfall cascading into a small lake. The sun shone down like a spotlight, unburdened from the trees that filtered it throughout the rest of the woods, causing the calm waters to glisten like mermaid scales.

“Oh, Red!” Harley exclaimed. “You never brought me here before. This is incredible!”

“This is my favorite place,” Ivy stated, Harley already disrobing for her swim. She wondered why she had never introduced Harley to this hideaway. Perhaps it was for that reason - it was a hideaway, and she needed a place to herself. Too late now. Vines began to weave a ladder leading to the top of the waterfall. “It’s deep enough to dive,” she informed the already natant Harley before wading into the lake herself. She swam lazily for a while before settling in her choice spot - the grotto behind the waterfall. There she floated in the shallow water with her eyes closed. The lighting was perfect, the water cool but not cold. Even Harley’s laughing and splashing didn’t disturb her...for awhile at least.

“Hey, Red! Where are ya?” Harley called out from atop the ledge before jumping off. Ivy resumed an upright position in preparation for her company.

“Behind the waterfall,” she responded when Harley broke the surface of the water. She gracefully swam through the fluid curtain to meet with the lounging redhead, plodding once her feet touched the bottom. Harley playfully splashed at Ivy, making sure to keep it to a minimum.

“So _this_ is why you asked about the underwear,” Harley commented, stepping onto the small beach area at the far end of the cave. “And how do I look?” she asked, striking a pose.

“You look…” Ivy started. _Like the reason Menelaus would start a war_ she thought. “Fine. Nice. Whatever. You look like any other woman in a bikini.” Harley smirked at the flustered response and returned to the water with Ivy.

“Ya know, diving into a lake is so much better than being pushed into a vat of acid.”

“You don’t say,” Ivy retorted, lackadaisically.

“You forget that I know ya, Red. I know how ya get sarcastic and distant when you’re trying to hide how ya really feel. And I get it. I know I’ve hurt you more than once. I’m sorry.”

“Well, I did try to kill you so I’d say we’re even,” Ivy replied, wondering what Harley meant.

Harley was now directly in front of Ivy, the rays dissecting her into glistening shadowed segments. “Yeah, but your brain’s a little weird from your injury so it’s understandable. I know ya don’t remember but you always protected me. You always supported me. Even after I’d hurt ya, you never turned me away. You helped me realize I was worth something and that I didn’t need Mistah J.”

“That’s good, I suppose. However, given what you’ve told me, the question remains - do you _want_ him in your life?”

“Being with him was exciting...sometimes. Scary other times, and not in a good way. I don’t know. Maybe.” Harley noticed Ivy’s expression sour at her answer. She moved in closer and took Ivy’s hands. “What I do know is that, right now, I wanna be here with you.” Harley began to move in more, and Ivy, too enchanted to ask about tomorrow, didn’t stop her. But before contact could be made a loud rumble echoed from the distance, breaking the spell.

Ivy released her hands from Harley’s and began to exit the grotto. “It sounds like a storm’s coming. We should head back.”

They quickly dried off with the towels Ivy had brought in the backpack, and raced home against the dark clouds in silence.

 

 


	18. Chapter 18

The heavy rainfall percussed the dense glass roof over Ivy’s room. She rested on her side attempting to sleep when the sliver of azure light breaking through her cracked door grew to encompass half the room. Harley tiptoed towards her bed. She pretended to be asleep until the moment Harley began to settle onto the mattress. “What are you doing?”

“Ha, I knew you weren’t asleep!” the blonde proclaimed, not letting the question or her successful notion deter her as she lied down with her back to Ivy. “I was cold.”

“The temperature in here is fine and, either way, you have plenty of blankets in your room,” Ivy reminded her as the company scooted until their bodies were pressed against each other. She noticed her hair smelled of coconut and heliotrope.

Harley reached back and took Ivy’s arm, wrapping it firmly around herself. “Yeah, I know, but…”

“But what, Harley?” Ivy maintained her serious tone, though she did not resist Harley’s lead.

“I just wanted to be with you is all,” she admitted, locking her fingers with Ivy’s.

“Fine. Good night.”

“Hey, Red?” the silence broken once more by a callow whisper.

“Yes?” Ivy sighed.

Harley rolled over, their faces so close the glint in one’s eye was mirrored in the other’s. “How about we try that kiss again” she put her hand on Ivy’s chest, mocking an attempt to hold her back “except without the attempted murder or weather interruptions.” Harley grinned, her contagious expression infecting Ivy who in turn smiled back. Harley leaned in and planted her lips on Ivy’s, gradually introducing her tongue. Ivy was powerless.

After a few minutes, Harley retreated and inhaled. “Is that what you came in here for, Harley? A kiss?” Ivy asked, giving Harley another on her neck just below her jaw and continuing down until she hit her collarbone. There was no resisting anymore - no snide remarks, no putting distance between them; Ivy wanted her, and the feeling was mutual. Harley was running her fingers through her companion’s red mane. “Or maybe you also came in here for this,” Ivy thrust her hand under Harley’s t-shirt and coasted slowly along her stomach before squeezing her breast.

“Mmhmm!” Harley uttered a muted gasp of approval.

“And was that all?” Ivy questioned softly in her ear, gently biting the lobe.

“No,” Harley responded, breathless.

“Oh? What else?”

At this Harley grabbed Ivy’s hand and kissed her palm before sliding it between her legs.


	19. Chapter 19

By the next morning the two women resembled an unkempt bosk, bodies tangled as they slumbered. Ivy was the first to wake, still drunk on the emotions of their intimate revelries, and she was content. Rejuvenated, Ivy decided to let her companion sleep while she transferred to her office to focus on work.

To Ivy’s dismay, both the local and national news sites were inundated with updates on the logging company’s case - they won the lawsuit. “Shit!” Ivy cursed, slamming her fist on the desktop. Most of the stories had quotes from representatives stating that within the next month they would be getting better equipment, changing their procedures to be more eco-friendly, opening more sites and amping up security. Ivy knew she was going to have to do something more drastic, more permanent, and she was going to have to do it quickly.

As she was typing up notes, Harley came up behind her. She wrapped her arms around Ivy and kissed her on the cheek. Though Ivy was upset, her demeanor changed instantly. She had finally given up fighting against the feelings that had been plaguing her. She truly felt as if she had known Harley forever, and once she surrendered she felt more at ease every minute they were together. “Hi, Harls,” she greeted her with a smile, though her eyes remained on the screen still concentrating on her upcoming scheme.

Harley spun Ivy around in her chair. “You said it!” She plopped down on Ivy’s lap, straddling her.

“Said what?” Ivy chuckled.

“You called me _Harls_ ,” she smiled, draping her arms around Ivy’s neck.

“Did I?” Ivy genuinely hadn’t noticed. Harley nodded and kissed her. “So is that what happens every time I call you _Harls_?”

“Guess you’ll have to wait and see,” she said with a wink. Harley removed herself from Ivy’s lap and sat on the floor with her legs crossed. “So whatcha up to?”

“That logging company won the lawsuit and, according to their reps, they’re starting up full force.” Ivy swiveled back to the laptop.

“Oh, jeez, Red! All that work for nothin’, huh? What’re you gonna do?”

“Destroy them at their roots. I didn’t want to hurt anyone, but they’ve done it to themselves. I’m going to annihilate their headquarters. They house their own servers, and all of the heads and higher ups work there. With all their information and main people gone, it would take years to get up and running again. That’s if they decide to attempt it. Something on that scale could easily prompt them to quit altogether.”

“Wow, you’ve gone full blown diabolical. What happens if another company rises up and takes their place?”

“That’s a possibility. A strong one, at that. However, I’ll do the same to them. After one or two more incidents, these shit companies will think twice before operating here.”

“They’ll just move elsewhere. Another state, another country.”

“And I’ll go after them wherever they are. Progress has to start somewhere, darling.”

Harley stood to leave Ivy to her work, but before her departure she spun Ivy around again. “I love how determined you are, Red,” she said and kissed her.

 

 


	20. Chapter 20

Ivy followed the media closely for the next few days, keeping an eye out for any updates. She had also managed to hack into the local newspaper’s server where she would scour their emails. This finally proved valuable when she stumbled upon an email to the assignment editor from someone at the logging company alerting them of a press conference to be held the next day. Ivy noted the time and place, hoping this would give her some information for her plan.

Harley was already in Ivy’s bed when she had finished her research and retired to her room. Ivy lied next to her courter, who immediately snuggled up next to her. “Any luck?” Harley asked. Ivy had to admit, it was nice to have someone interested in her life. She never used to care, never wanted that, but once it was there she could not deny its pleasant warming of her soul.

“Actually, yes. I found out there’s going to be a press conference tomorrow. I don’t know what they’re going to be announcing exactly, but it could help with my planning.”

“Ugh, how boring!” Harley blurted out. Ivy shot her a look. “I mean, it’s great you finally got something worthwhile. Press conferences are just boring. I’m glad things are lookin’ up for ya, Red.”

“Thank you, Harls.” Ivy softly kissed her forehead.

“I was thinkin’ of goin’ shopping tomorrow, maybe?”

“Of course, whatever you’d like. I’ll see you in the morning. Good night.”

 

 

Ivy was up early, the anticipation of the event gnawing at her in an uneasy sleep. She dressed for the conference and paced throughout the greenhouse for hours until Harley awoke. “Hiya, Red,” she greeted her in Ivy’s office with a drowsy smile and a clumsy kiss. “Don’t you look fancy,” Harley commented, referring to the dapper skirt suit Ivy donned. “You’ll fit right in.”

“Good morning, Harls,” she offered a strained smile.

“What’s wrong?” Harley could instantly sense something was amiss with her scarlet-haired beloved.

“Just worried about the conference. It’s very possible that what they say could affect my plans negatively.”

“Aw, Red. The only thing they could do to stop you is move their company to the moon. And even then. You’ll see, it’ll be okay.” Harley hugged her. And Ivy knew she was right. Whatever announcement they had planned would be a minor obstacle at most. She had been up against worse.

“Yes, you speak the truth,” Ivy replied, somewhat calmed by Harley’s reassurance. Her confidence restored, she was ready to head out. “I’ll see you later. Have fun shopping,” she said leaving Harley in the office. Harley made her way back to the bedroom; the front door keypad beeped as Ivy locked the door behind her. A few minutes later it beeped again and hurried steps pattered to the office then up the stairs to their shared room. Ivy quickly walked over to the lounging Harley and, taking her face in her hands, kissed her passionately. “How could I forget that?” she smiled before exiting again, leaving Harley with a dreamy grin in her wake.


	21. Chapter 21

As Ivy approached the designated event area in front of city hall she couldn’t help but notice how empty it looked. Once closer, she realized that the long table atop the stage was being removed and the seats were being loaded into a truck. Confused, she stopped one of the workers. “What happened? Did I miss the press conference?”

“No, ma’am,” the young man replied, “it was cancelled.”

“Cancelled? Why?”

“I don’t know. Someone from the city hall building called it off.” With that he disregarded her and continued with his task.

Ivy rushed to the front desk within the building. A secretary greeted her. “How may I help you?” she inquired.

“I was just told that the Ayers Logging press conference was cancelled by someone here. Do you know who it was?”

“Oh, yes. He’s in Mr. Hitchcock’s office. I’ll call to let the gentleman know you’re on your way up. May I have your name please?”

“Paula Irving,” Ivy called out from the elevators.

“It’s office 330. Third floor, take two rights and it’s the first door on your left!” the secretary shouted as Ivy pushed past the people exiting the lift.

 

 


	22. Chapter 22

Ivy rushed to the office where the unknown gentleman waited. She knocked on the frosted glass of the door but didn’t wait for a response before barging in. “Batman? What the hell are you doing here?”

“Hello, Ivy,” he replied in his typical astringent tone.

“Are you here to take me back to Arkham? Because that’s not going to happen!” Vines began creeping out from the cuffs of her suit jacket. Batman remained still, an attempt to prove he was not a threat.

“Put those away. I’m not here for that.” He was holding a manila envelope in his gloved hands. “This logging company business, it’s made national news. So, I’m here to give you this,” he passed the envelope to her.

“You set all this up to give me an envelope? How did you know I would be here? How did you manage…” Ivy’s mind was swirling with so many questions she could barely speak.

“After I saw the news, I knew you’d be planning something. I contacted some people from Ayers, told them that there was a very good reason to believe their employees and their business was in danger. I told them to send an email to all the local media outlets calling for a press conference. I figured you’d be infiltrating at least one of the newspapers or tv stations, looking for updates. But I told them to call all of these outlets first and let them know that the email was fake. It was just the bait, and I would take care of the rest. And here we are.”

“Mildly impressive. And what exactly is this? Some sort of tracking device?” She opened the flap and peeked inside - a sheet of paper and a USB drive. “Seriously?”

“Just take it. You’ll get an explanation soon enough.”

Ivy removed the sheet of paper. It had something written on it which appeared to be in her handwriting:

 

_Return this to me if things go badly. You’ll figure out how to find me._

 

“What kind of sick…” she started, but when she looked up all she saw was an open window swinging gently on its hinges.


	23. Chapter 23

“Harls?” Ivy called out upon returning to the greenhouse. No answer. “Harley?” she tried again, moving from room to room to see if her companion had finished her shopping spree. She was nowhere to be found. Ivy settled in her office and plugged the flash drive into her laptop. A folder opened instantly - two files were presented. Ivy opened the first - a video. To her surprise, it was she - sitting in her office, looking rather distraught. Ivy could not recall making this.

“ _If you’re watching this...if I’m watching this? I’m not sure how to address you...or me. Anyway, if you’re watching this, something has happened. You’ve broken a promise, or are about to. Batman has returned this to you per my request. I’m sure you were suspicious upon seeing him. You’ve made an agreement with him. I’m not sure what it is, as this is being made prior to my trip to Gotham, but if he agrees and something goes wrong, I’ll be asking him to return this._ ”

Ivy paused the video of herself. She knew Batman would have gotten proof of the agreement and figured the other file had something to do with it. She promptly opened the second file - a sound clip. She listened to the conversation she had with Batman on the roof of the Ace Chemical Plant, another event she did not remember. She soon realized why he sought her out and returned to the video she had made for herself. Between the clicking and the raised audio she did not hear the keypad beep as Harley entered the mansion.

“ _You can trust him. You must abide by the terms you’ve agreed on.”_ Tears began to well in Ivy’s eyes as she continued to listen to herself explain the situation with Harley and the plan to mend her broken heart, finally fully accepting that the intruder turned swain had been telling her the truth. _“You, of course, won’t remember any of this if the procedure is successful and I’m sorry to have to introduce it to you. But it is just a story as far as you’re concerned now. You won’t be riddled with the pain that drove me to this. That is all that matters. And if by chance Harley comes around again,”_ the past-Ivy held up two photos, Harley in and out of costume, _“this woman here, if she comes around do not let her in. Change your locks, add security, whatever you have to do. God knows if that happened now I probably would not be able to do it, but your mind is clean and you have the strength and resolve to turn her away. Remember who you are. Don’t let her tangle you in her web of illusions, her feigned love. It will not last, and she will leave. It’s what she does. And this will all have been for nothing. Stay away from Harley Quinn. She will be the death of you._ ” With that final ominous warning the video cut out, and for the first time that day, Ivy realized she was too late.

She sat in a stupor for a moment until a beep and the front door slamming brought her back. “Harley,” she whispered. She ran out of the office expecting to see her in the foyer. Alas, no one was there. “Harley!” she cried to no avail. She stood quietly listening to her plants. “She’s...gone?” Ivy sprinted up the stairs to check both bedrooms. Drawers were half opened, items of clothing strewn about the floor. Still, Ivy had some hope. If her makeup was still in the bathroom, she was guaranteed to return.

The bathroom door was ajar. Ivy held her breath before bursting in. Save for some tissues and q-tips, the vanity counter was bare. On the mirror, scrawled in red lipstick, were Harley’s final words - “ _I’m so sorry, Red. You were right”_ signed with a lopsided heart and the imprint of her lips. Ivy sat defeated on the thick glass floor, the drops from her face making tiny splashes as they collided with the hard surface. And for the second time that day, she realized she was too late.

 


End file.
